


It's all about genetics

by BellaP



Series: It's all about genetics [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Pre-Slash, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 19:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaP/pseuds/BellaP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bianca was the woman who raised him, the one he called "mom", the one for whom he cried when she died. But she was not his biological mother. Because his biological mother was a goddess... Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's all about genetics

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously that Teen Wolf doesn't belong to me. If it did, Derek and Stiles would be a thing a long time ago.  
> Also, English isn't my first language. So sorry for the grammatical mistakes.

One of the things Stiles learned in one of those nights where his heart was pumping too much Adderall through his system and his stomach was so full of Red Bull, and Red Bull only, to stop any possibility of some sleep come to his mind, was that children start to retain memories after their fourth year of life. So is a little weird that Stiles remembered something from his second year of life. Or this is the case because his mother told him this story so many times that he thinks he remember something.

But the case is that, sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he is brought back to the day when he thought he could fly, only to be proved wrong and end up with a broken arm. He remember the scream that the sudden pain brought to his lips and the same was the classical “ _mama_ ”. He can remember how Bianca Stilinski came running from the kitchen, like it was the end of the world, and saw the little boy at the bottom of the stairs, with tear tracks on his chubby face and holding his arm against his body.

Stiles can remember how Bianca's eyes filled out with tears when he turned to her and said with his childish voice:

“It hurts mama.” And at the time he didn't understand why she was crying along with him. What happened after that Stiles didn't remember. His father said that Bianca drove like a crazy woman to the hospital and barged through the emergency’s door with a hurt Stiles in her arms and in the middle of a panic attack. Later, years later actually, he found out why the woman cried when he screamed for her. It was the first time he called her _mom_.

Stiles didn't understand what the big deal was. Bianca was his mother, so obviously that he would call her as such. But then, another year later he discovered why they made such a fuss because of a simply word. When Bianca got ill, when Stiles and John Stilinski's life started to be split between long stays in the hospital and a cold and depressed environment inside their house, the recently elected Sheriff put his hands on his son's shoulders and said to him:

“Pray for the gods, Genim, pray for them to help your mother.” Stiles blinked at his father, completely oblivious about what he was talking. Gods? As in plural? If so, of what kind? But even with so many questions going on in his never resting mind, he did what his father asked. He prayed for the gods to help his mother... And he wasn't answered because months later Bianca passed away, tired of the fighting and with one 'I love you' for John and Stiles as her final goodbye.

Stiles was ten years old when this happened and he thought, when he saw his father crushed face at the funeral, that their world would come down the moment his mother's coffin touched the cold earth. But, fortunately, it didn't because days later a big fire took out all the family members who lived in the Hale's house. An event so big that kept the Sheriff's mind and time busy enough to forget, even if was for some hours, about his beloved and dead wife. And also to forget about the hyperactive little boy who was now lost without his mother inside of a very silent and very creepy house.

But it was only when he was twelve that Stiles discovered why Bianca cried when he called her _mama_.

That day was supposed to be like any other day. Stiles woke up, took a shower, made breakfast (corn flakes and juice because his father didn't trust him enough to get close to the stove), said good morning to his father, took the school bus, met Scott at the school, gave Lydia lovesick glances, was bullied by Jackson and his gang, smart mouthed some teachers and got a detention that made him get late at home to start dinner (frozen dinner. The Sheriff did trust Stiles with the microwave). Only to get home and see that his father wasn't alone.

There was a woman in the living room with the Sheriff. Tall, pretty, gray eyes and long and waving dark hair. She smiled when she saw him, a smile that made Stiles realize that it looked a lot like the smile he saw on his own reflection on the mirror and when John sighed and called for his son, saying in a serious tone that they needed to talk, Stiles didn't like it one bit. It was the same tone that the Sheriff used when he told Stiles that Bianca was sick, very, very sick. And, as predicted, Stiles didn't like what he heard coming from his father's mouth.

“You're not my mother.” He said after John finished to explain the truth. The woman's gray eyes only glinted with some amusement. She didn't seem offended with his harsh attitude, only curious.

“I know. And I thank Bianca and her big heart for everything she did for you and I'm not asking you to recognize me as such, but at least don't deny the truth.” Stiles wasn't denying the truth, because it would be ridiculous. Because what John told him explained a lot of things, put an end to a lot of questions, but accepting was still hard. Bianca always said that he was special. He only never thought that he was so special. But when John told him the reason why his blood mother was there, why she came to claim him as her son, Stiles freaked out enough to make his father lost his patience and scream a big “shut up” to him.

“It's not a choice, Stiles. We are... I'm saying that you are going.”

“But...” A summer camp, for the whole summer. A summer camp without Scott. He had planned so many things to do this summer with Scott. It wasn't fair, specially that he wouldn't be able to tell his best friend why he was going to the other side of the country for three months. So with his arguments lost, Stiles left the living room stomping his feet but not fast enough to not hear his biological mother say:

“Don't mind him. He hates the idea now, but he will love it when he gets there.”

And, okay, she was right. He loved when he arrived at the summer camp. When he found out what a big family he had from his mother's side. That he had brothers and sisters, a lot of them. Some older, some younger, but all of them as bright as him and none of them about to complain of his babbling mouth. He learned how to fight (even being annoying uncoordinated for a growing boy, but he discovered that he had a pretty and lethal talent at throwing knives), learned about politics, math, economics, philosophy, about how to build, destroy and rebuild things, learned a lot of things that he wasn't able to tell Scott when he came back and had to return the next summer with the excuse that he was visiting relatives from his mother's side (what was partially the truth).

He learned things that for a while, for more awesome it was, he thought that he would never be able to use in the real world. In the mortal world. Until the day that Scott was bitten. The day his biological mother said was the reason why he was training so much. Because he had to be there to help his friend. How she knew that this would happen he didn't ask. Besides, Stiles had an uncle with the power to see the future. So he put all his knowledge in the task to guide Scott, to help him control himself, to keep his best friend condition as a secret and to stop him to kill anyone while they, along with sour wolf Derek Hale, searched for the alpha.

So, it was with a big sigh that Stiles finally let himself relax when everything ended with everybody finding out that Kate Argent was the one responsible for the fire that killed the Hale family and the so called alpha searching for vengeance was Peter Hale who was stopped by Stiles and Jackson and killed, once and for all, by Derek.

“I wouldn't relax just yet.” Stiles jumped one foot over the mattress and turned to glare at the woman who sat on his computer desk.

“For the love of...” She arched an eyebrow. “Forget it. What are you doing here?”

“I came to give you congratulations for the work well done.”

“Thank you.”

“And warn you that it isn't over yet.” Stiles wanted to scream. After everything he went through he did deserve a break. And now that woman was saying that it wasn't over yet? The Oracle didn't say anything to him about this being a long time mission.

“Now you became the messenger? Are they trading posts up there?” She just smiled. That annoying know-it-all smile and Stiles groaned. “What will happen next?” He was tired. For weeks he was living under pure adrenalin and lies. Of course that if he had told the truth about the deaths to his father, the Sheriff would have believed him, but Stiles didn't want to put the man in that mess. Not when he could end up killed because of it. So he lied, every single time, and it was tiring. And now she showed up out of nowhere to tell him that it wasn't over yet? Damn his life.

“I can't tell you yet.” She jumped off the computer desk. “But your aunt wants to thank you for helping her son.” Stiles frowned. What son? He didn't know anyone in Beacon Hills that was like him. “Derek Hale.” No fucking way! The sour wolf was a long lost cousin? Well, at least he told Danny the truth, even if at that time he didn't know it.

“Whose son is he?” His progenitor smiled again that frustrating know-it-all smile.

“Artemis.” Stiles' eyes almost popped out from its socks.

“Come again?” She laughed at his face.

“Not in that way. According to the legends, human's legends, werewolves were called 'children of the moon'. And it's true in some aspects. Artemis didn't have an affair with someone and broke her chastity vows as you are thinking.” Damn, she knew him well. “The lycanthropy curse was actually a gift given by Artemis to one of her most devoted followers who happen to be the Hale's ancestors. They were the first werewolves to run in this planet. After that she blessed others.” That's why Derek said that the bite was actually a gift.

“Why she gave them this _curse_?”

“Long story that I won't be able to tell you tonight. Actually, why don't you ask your friend?” She indicated with her head Stiles' window from where Derek Hale, the one and only, was coming through right now.

Stiles breath hitched in his throat and questions started to pop up in his head. Did he hear anything? What did he hear? Why he was looking to his biological mother with that frown? Why the hell he was growling? And why she was giving to Derek that annoying smile when he was about do rip her throat out? And yes, Stiles knew that would be impossible to Derek get close enough to touch the woman, but he was well known for his drama queen tendencies.

“Well, I'll leave you right now. See you soon dear.” She didn't give them a warning, but Stiles was well used with the woman comings and goings to scream to Derek:

“Close your eyes!” What, miraculously, he did. Maybe it was the instinct that told him that listen to Stiles this time was a good idea, or maybe was because the glow that was growing around her body before she left was a big give away of what was about to happen. So, as usual, Stiles turned his head while he felt at the back of his neck the heat from his biological mother disappearance. Shadows danced across the room's wall and all the show that they didn't see only lasted a second before it end.

“Stiles!” And then came Derek's familiar growl. “What the hell was that? Who the hell was that?”

“Well... Derek, you just met my biological mother.” Derek's eyes flashed red for a second, something that lately, since he became an alpha, Stiles started to recognize that that was a way to show how annoyed, angry or frustrated the werewolf was.

“Your biological mother.” The incredulous tone was there, as usual. Every time Stiles did or said anything awesome Derek would look at him with an unbelievable expression and use that tone. And, obviously, if Stiles had an awesome mother Derek would think that this was too way out of the league for the poor teenager. “Who just disappeared in a flash of light.”

“Yeah, about that...” He gave the wolf a weak smile. “Say Derek, what do you know about Greek mythology?” His only answer was an arched eyebrow from Derek's part.

“Greek mythology?” Stiles' smiled a big and mischievous smile, one that Derek didn't like one bit. He only knew Stiles for a few months, but was enough to know that when the teenager smiled like that, he was about to be slapped on the face with something big that will leave him gobsmacked.

“Sit here sour wolf...” Stiles patted the mattress beside where he was. “And let me tell you about Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom, and how she likes to allure innocent men with her pretty smile and have awesomely smart babies with them.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I changed the werewolf myth a little bit, or a lot. Actually, it was Zeus who cursed a king named Licaon because he served human meat in a dinner to the god. But in my mind, for some reason, I always thought that werewolves existed because of Artemis. It's a crazy theory that I have. So I put it in this fic just for the kicks.


End file.
